


Beefcakes

by SnowWhiteKnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Attempt at Humor, Baker!Sandor, Bartender!Arya, Chef!Sansa, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy situations, Manager!Brienne, Mature Situations, Server!Jaime, Server!Podrick, mature language, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: Tired of the various chains of breastaurants, Brienne diTarth, Arya Stark, and Sansa Stark, decide to open their own version to cater to women, and call it: Beefcakes. They have a lot of hard work ahead of them.





	1. Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SassyEggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyEggs/gifts).



> For Sassy, who is an absolute doll. Minus the creepy, blank stare. And the breakable porcelain head. And the super frilly baby clothes. And... :/
> 
> For Sassy, who is a pretty flower.

When Brienne put the ad in the paper, she honestly didn't expect as big a response as what was in front of her. Five minutes to eight in the morning and there was already a line of people waiting to get their guaranteed interview. She checked the ad and sure enough, it said, “Interviews start at 9:00AM”. Sansa was in the back and hadn't seen the line yet. Arya was gawking from one of the windows, the men on the other side of it were completely unaware of her scrutiny. “Eager beavers, aren't they?” she asked Brienne. 

“Times are tough and when you need a job, it helps to take the bull by the horns.” Brienne sighed. “Maybe we should start early. Would you go get Sansa? We can divide and conquer if we set up three tables.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Arya went to get Sansa while Brienne arranged the tables and chairs. She paused with her hand on the door, gathering her courage before pushing it open. She quickly counted the amount of people in line. “Alright, since you are already here, let's get this started. We have three interviewers. Wait for them to call you over and do not enter the interview area unless you are called.”

“Who are you to give orders, butterface?” one man shouted out. He laughed loudly, trying to get some of the others to join in. 

“I’m the owner,” Brienne said. The man’s face fell. “Now you have two choices. Get the hell out. Or get to the back of the line. If you choose the latter, I will expect you to interview with me, and I will  _ expect _ you to adjust your attitude by the time you see me. The rest of you, we will see you as quickly as possible. First three, with me.”

**********

Arya wanted to stab someone. Or several someones. The last three applicants had definitely earned it. She looked down at the application of the last one.  _ Meryn Trant. _ The man was older than her father, but that hadn't stopped him from eyeing her like a piece of meat and making awful lewd suggestions. She briefly imagined sitting in his lap, taking his cock in her hand, then slicing it off with the custom dagger her favorite cousin had given her. Coup de grace would be feeding it to the fat slob before plunging the dagger into his heart. She managed to not kill him before sending him on his way, though there had been a close call when he reached over to touch her hand. 

“NEXT!” she yelled. A young man rushed over, nearly tripping on his own feet. He pushed his application at her before sitting down. He had some of the nicest brown eyes Arya had ever seen. “Ok,” she looked at the paper, “Podrick. I see you are applying for server. And you previously worked at...that's a lot of restaurants. At the same time.” He looked nervous to her. “Will you be working at other venues as well if you receive an offer of employment from us?”

“No, that was only for the summer. I will be attending school, but my schedule is fairly flexible.”

Arya nodded. “Ok, well then my first question is how comfortable are you with your body?”

“Pardon?”

The corner of her mouth quirked up into a half-smile. “Have you been to restaurants like Hooters or Tilted Kilt?”

Podrick blinked in astonishment. “Once. Birthday party for my uncle. He ended up going home with one of the servers and now they're expecting their third kid.”

“Well, this restaurant, Beefcakes, is like that, except our target demographic is women, age eighteen and up. If hired, you will be required to wear a scanty uniform. We haven’t decided on exactly what just yet, and have been toying with the idea of dressing the servers up in different costumes.” She eyed him critically. “I'm thinking sexy vet for you. Maybe a plush puppy strapped to your shoulder? So, would you be comfortable with that? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“I… I…” He turned the most adorable shade of red. “How scanty are we talking?”

“Abs and pecs would definitely be showing. May I?” He had this dumbfounded look on his face, but lifted his shirt. Arya licked her lips without thinking. “Probably biceps as well. Maybe calves and lower thighs, we're still deciding on that one.”

“I… I think I can do that. If I am offered the job, of course.” He was staring at the table, his face blazing red. He peeked up at her. 

She smiled at him, “You can put your shirt down now. You'll receive a call tomorrow with that answer. I need to confer with my partners for all final decisions, but just so you know, you're definitely at the top of my list.” She winked and he turned even redder, dropping his shirt. “Off you go now, Podrick.”

He got up, his hands shaking a little bit. “Pod.”

“Sorry?”

“I… You can call me Pod.” He ran out of there so fast, Arya was surprised when he didn't trip this time either.  

**********

Brienne was annoyed. The vast majority of the men applying thought they'd get the job because they assumed she was starved for male attention and tried flirting with her. Their applications were crumpled into paper balls and tossed at their heads with a reminder that they were trying to get a job and this was not appropriate behavior. The few that didn't were placed in a sadly small pile for consideration. So far, she had interviewed thirty-three men and two women. She had seven applications in her pile. Both of the women were in there, one a potential bartender to help Arya and the other an accountant who could serve as a manager. 

She sighed and placed her head on the table in defeat. “Next!” she yelled, her voice slightly muffled. She felt the vibrations as someone sat down and heard their application being shoved across the table. 

“Long day?” a velvet voice asked her. 

“You have no idea,” she replied. She sat up and took up the application. “So, Jaime Lannister, what makes you qualified to work at Beefcakes as…” She scanned the application, just to make sure, then looked up at him.  _ Oh, shit. It's really him! _ “Jaime Lannister? As in heir to the Lannister Corporation? Applying to be waitstaff?”

“Oh, uh...yeah. Is that going to be a problem?” He looked amused.

“Only if it interferes with your work schedule. Why do you want to work here? Did you lose a bet?” 

He smiled. “Something like that. But, really, if you do hire me, I will be a loyal employee. I’m...well, I’m trying to prove to myself and my family that I can make it without their money and influence. Would have applied under a pseudonym but do you know how hard it is for a man my age to buy a fake ID? Seriously hard.”

“Not to mention  _ completely _ illegal,” she pointed out. He had the decency to blush as he shrugged. “Alright, let's start with the basics, shall we?”

**********

“Next!” Sansa yelled half-heartedly. She hated this. Most of the male applicants were so gross, hitting on her and telling her the most ridiculous compliments, assuming she was a vapid fluffhead that could be lured in with honeyed words. 

A large man plunked down in the seat across from. No, not large.  _ Huge. _ She was no pipsqueak, but the man dwarfed her! “Sandor Clegane,” he said in a raspy voice, handing her his application. He kept his head down with his eyes glued to the table, his long hair hiding his face. 

_ Odd, _ she thought. Then she saw the scars. Half his face, up into his scalp and his ear… well, there wasn't one on that side of his head. She gulped a little.  _ What on earth has he been through?! _ Quickly, she looked down at his resume. He had worked at a lot of restaurants, some really high end ones as well. Glancing up at him through her lashes, she blushed at the thought of him in one of the scanty outfits Arya had proposed.  _ He has a really nice body. Like, REALLY nice. I don't think our customers would mind the scars too much. Maybe we could work it into the costume… like a villain character or just a bad boy biker… _ She blushed harder at the image forming in her mind.  _ Getting ahead of yourself there, girlie! Interview first, inappropriate thoughts later. _

She coughed, getting his attention, “Are you aware of the nature of this restaurant?”

He nodded. “Like Hooters, but for women.”

“Ok, good. And why do you want to leave your current job? It looks like it’s higher paying than this one will be.”

He took a breath. “It's also fucking stressful. The pay isn't worth the amount of time and effort I put into that place. I just need a change of pace and this place seems like a good fit, if you'll have me, I mean.”

“Well, you do have some recommendations here…” She found that odd, but he must have been an outstanding server. “As a server, will you be comfor--”

“I'm not applying for waitstaff,” he interrupted, frowning at her. 

Sansa looked down at his application and saw in big bold letters “Position Applying For: BAKER” and on his resume, under each location he had worked, it clearly said “BAKER”. 

“Oh… oh, dear, I am so sorry! With your wonderful physique, I assumed you were applying for-- I am so sorry.”

He raised his good eyebrow at her. “You think I have a nice body?”

“Of course! Look at you! You could easily be a main attraction. I was already envisioning you in a dashing pirate costume, or a sailor, maybe a knight--” Sansa stopped suddenly. His eyes had gone wide and she realized what she had said. “I mean… that is to say…”

He threw his head back and laughed, the action lightening his face and making him seem years younger. “Fuck me, I've never heard such an insane thing before.” He looked at her, still smiling. “You're alright, girl. You're alright.” 

What was insane was the fact that she was pleased that he found her to be acceptable. She was interviewing  _ him, _ for goodness sake! “I will have to sample your baking before making a final decision, but if you'll follow me, I'll show you to the kitchen. You'll find everything you need there to make a strawberry shortcake,” she said, standing up and trying hard to not blush. “I trust that you can handle the recipe?” So many bakers scoffed at the idea of making such a simple cake, like it was beneath them, that Sansa used it as a measuring stick to test people. It hadn't failed her yet. 

He stood up, cracking his knuckles and grinning. “That a challenge, girl?”

Sansa couldn't help but grin back. He not only could see through her test, he was ready to take it down. “Oh, you better believe it is, cupcake,” she replied, giving him an audacious wink. 

**********

“Fuuuuuuck,” Arya complained later in the evening. They had gotten through every single applicant and it had been exhausting. The only upside was that of the few non-servers that had applied, there was one clear winner on the food prep staff. “The fugly dude makes a mean strawberry shortcake.”

“He's not ‘fugly’,” her sister protested. “He was just unfortunate in life and--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… you're just in love with his baking, specifically that cake he made.”

Sansa turned an incredibly (and suspiciously) deep shade of red and started to ramble, “Well, it  _ is _ one of the best I've ever had and I set it as my standard judgment because it's so simple and if you can't get  _ this _ right--”

“He's hired. Next! This Hot Pie character… thoughts?” Arya asked. 

“His baking was pretty good, though not as good as--”

“Right, right, your new boyfriend is a lock on the baking position, get over it.” Arya laughed at the angry face Sansa was making. It was just too cute. Brienne was laughing too, but being more tactful about it. “Ok,  _ fine. _ I'll stop teasing you for the rest of this.” Utter lie, of course. “Hot Pie’s baking?”

Sansa sulked for a few more moments before giving in. “He was very good as well, but definitely second if I was ranking them. I think we should have him as an assistant baker, if only because San-- erm, Clegane is still working at his previous job for a few more weeks. He's under contract but when he saw this position was open…” Sansa shrugged. “Baking positions in this area are hard to come by, and we'll be lucky to have him.”

“Oh, yeah, I bet you want to  _ have _ him,” Arya said with a smirk. Sansa looked panicked. “I saw you  _ flirting _ with him. Big guy like that, figure he'll be big  _ everywhere, _ amirite? Bet you wanna lick and nibble his  _ baguette _ all night lon--”

“Arya!!!” Sansa exclaimed, sending Arya into a fit of giggles. 

“Ok, ok, I'm done,” Arya said, wiping the tears from her eyes. Sansa was much too easy to bait. One of these days, she’d tire of teasing her sister. But not today. “So of the potential assistant chefs, any winners there?”

Sansa scowled at her, turned to Brienne and said, “Jeyne will be helping out for a few weeks, but Ramsay Snow is my top choice. The only thing is… he's kind of… that is to say…” 

“He's fucking creepy,” Arya interjected. She had noticed him right off, even though she had been in the middle of another interview.

“A little,” Sansa admitted, to tactful for her own good, “but he knows what he's doing. His knife skills are beyond anyone else's and he says his boyfriend runs a market and can get us good deals. However, his boyfriend is Beric, so we already have a business deal with him.” Arya wondered if Ramsay had actually called Beric his boyfriend or if Sansa was just being tactful again.

“How does his food taste?” Brienne asked. 

“Marvelous! Just… the presentation is not quite right for this place. Except maybe during Halloween.” Sansa was depressed by this fact, but then her face lit up. “Unless… unless we have a goth/spooky night? We  _ were _ considering having themed nights, after all.”

“Definitely a strong possibility. I'll add it to the idea list. Ok, and last for the non-servers, I only had one person apply for manager that was acceptable, what about you two?” Brienne asked. Both Stark women shook their heads. “Ok, well, her resume is impeccable, and Sansa vouches for her, so Lollys Stokeworth is hired.”

Arya piped up. “Next is servers. The core of our business. Who ya got? Brie first.”

Brienne cleared her throat. “Jaime  _ freaking _ Lannister.”

“What!?” “No way!” Arya and Sansa said at the same time. 

“He was  _ here?!” _ Arya screeched. “But why? He was on the cover of People Magazine, named Sexiest Man of the Year for three years straight! THREE!!”

“He was, and for some reason, he wants to work here. He's never worked in a restaurant before, so he'll be starting from the extreme bottom, but he says he's willing to put in the effort.”

“Oh, he is  _ definitely _ in. Do you know how many people a lookalike would draw? And this is the  _ real deal! _ Fucking awesome.” Arya tapped the table excitedly. “Man, everyone else after him is going to seem like oatmeal. Oh, speaking of oatmeal, this dude, Podrick Payne.”

“You're so rude, Arya.” Sansa frowned at her.

Arya shrugged. “He's got the bod, but he's shy. Could work in our favor, depending on the customers, though we’d have to have the host evaluate personalities as much as they can and seat them according to that. Kind of like that Host Club series you used to read,” she said, directing the comment to Sansa. Sansa’s eyes lit up.

“Oh! That’s actually a good idea. So, quick detour, I think this guy will be perfect for that role.” Sansa pulled an application from her pile. “His name is Olyvar Waters, and he seems like he would fit that. He was applying for a server job though.”

Arya took the application and read through it. “We'll have him come in again, talk to him about it. Ok, back to servers, this Pod guy is experienced up the wazoo. Even if he's not particularly charming, he'll still be a good guy to have on our team and can help train the idiots. Plus, like I said, his bod is pretty rocking. I convinced him to show me his abs and just… damn. Could use him to wash laundry.” 

“Ok, ignoring the  _ blatant _ sexual harassment, I say hire him and keep an eye on Arya around him,” Brienne said. “Next, we have…”


	2. Brunch

“So, you're leaving this place?” Bronn asked him. Sandor chucked the heavy trash bag into the dumpster. 

“As soon as my contract is up, which is three weeks and two days from now, but who’s counting?”

“What does this  _ Beefcakes _ got that this place doesn't?” Bronn took an angry draw from his cigarette. 

“You're just mad because you forgot to go apply as well.” Sandor slammed the dumpster cover closed. “As for what it's got…” He briefly thought of light blue eyes that lit up whenever she laughed, of her warm hand on his arm, touching him so innocently. She was eleven years younger than his thirty-seven, but that didn’t stop his heart from racing whenever he thought of her. Not that he was a romantic, but she did get him thinking of nice things. “Better question is what it  _ doesn't _ have, which is that bitch of a boss. I swear, she's going to run this place into the ground, and the entire time she'll consider it ‘doing it just like the old lion did.’ Fucking bullshit is what that is.”

Bronn nodded. “Jumping ship. Not a bad idea actually. Think they're still hiring?”

Sandor shrugged, but he felt tension building up inside him. Bronn was a ladies man, and no woman had ever chosen Sandor over Bronn. Not that he resented this fact. It was just how life worked. At least, until he laid eyes on Sansa Stark, who had looked at him with stars in her eyes as he fed her a bite of the cake he had made. He had liked that feeling, and losing it to his more handsome and charming friend would be more than he thought he could bear. “Don’t know.” Yet, his loyalty to his friend was too strong for him to not add, “You can try. Not like it’ll hurt to ask.”

“Yeah, think I will…” Bronn said, half-heartedly. “Hope there’s some pretty girls to flirt with.”

Sandor grimaced, but said nothing.

**********

Podrick raced through town, trying to get to the Beefcakes restaurant, even though he had plenty of time. He wasn’t thrilled about the “scantily clad” aspect of the job, but it paid well and the girl who interviewed him would be working the bar. The look she had given him after seeing his abs made him want to show her more, which was not his usual reaction to women. Granted, most women weren’t as adorably dangerous as this one. She could cut him into little pieces and he had the feeling he would thank her for it.  _ I wonder if this means I’m masochistic? _ he thought as he pulled his car into the Beefcakes parking lot. There were a few other cars there, more than if all three of the owners had driven separately.

Once he was inside, he stood next to the door, letting his eyes adjust from the bright sunshine he had just left behind. The tall blonde woman, Brienne, was speaking with a mousey, brown haired woman. The redhead was not visible, but she was the chef from what Pod had understood, and was probably in the kitchen. The girl who had been on his mind since his interview was sitting on the small stage in the corner. She was chatting merrily with a tall, golden blond man and another man with dark brown hair, who kept looking over at the mousey woman. She smiled at Pod when she saw him. “Hey! Glad you could make it! Come on over.”

He joined the group with some apprehension. “Hello. I’m Podrick Payne,” he said, offering his hand to both men.

“Jaime,” the blond man said. He shook Pod’s hand more strongly than Pod had anticipated.

“I’m Bronn. Nice to meet you, lad,” the dark brown haired man said, though he was still looking at the mousey woman.

“You know… it’s a good thing you three are all here,” Arya said, eyeing Pod. He felt like a piece of meat, but was also okay with that feeling, so long as it was coming from this pixie vixen. “We actually are having a problem deciding which of you two,” she pointed at Jaime and Pod, “to hire, and now this lovely gentleman is also vying for a position. Such a hard decision.” 

Pod felt his heart plummet. How was he supposed to compete with these two men?! 

“Oh!” Arya said, bringing all three of their attentions to her. “I know. We’ll have a sexy-off!”

Bronn frowned. “A what?”

“A sexy-off. You three will get up on the stage, and shake what your mama gave ya. Whoever does the best, will get the position. How’s that sound?”

Pod thought he was going to die. There was no way he could out-sexy these two men! Jaime was practically sex on a stick, and Bronn looked like he could get any woman he wanted. 

“Sounds fair to me,” Jaime said, taking his shirt off already. “You guys might as well leave now. I got this in the bag.”

“Not likely, friend,” Bronn sneered. “I’ve got plenty experience in this department.” They both hopped up onto the stage. 

A stereo was next to Arya, which Pod had just noticed, as if she had been waiting to do this all along.  _ That’s odd… _

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked him. “Get on up there.” 

“I don’t know… I’m not very good at dancing… or being sexy…” he said meekly. She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly amused.

“Just try. Humor me, ok?” she asked, leaning into him, and pressing her breasts against his arm.  _ Did the temperature just go up about a thousand degrees? _ he thought in a daze. “Please? Pod?” she asked, her voice smooth as silk. She reached up to stroke his cheek. “For me?”

He suddenly found himself on the stage in between Jaime and Bronn as the music started.

**********

Jaime scowled at the Bronn fellow. He was making eyes in the direction of the blonde wench that had interviewed him the previous day. Not that he cared. She wasn’t  _ his. _ Nor was she even his type. It didn’t matter that she had laughed at his stupid self-depreciating jokes. Or that she had the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen. Or that her lips were possibly the most kissable looking of any woman he had ever known. Or the fact that she had the most built body he had ever seen on a woman that wasn’t a bodybuilder. Or the fact that despite not being as beautiful as most of the women in his life, he had been more attracted to her than any of those women, but he most  _ certainly _ hadn’t entertained thoughts of pushing her up against a wall, making that pale skin turn rosy from blushing and physical attention, nor had he wondered what she would sound like moaning his name over and over as he pounded into her. She was nothing to him! Just another citizen with one of the most perfect asses he had ever seen, and maybe if he said it enough times, he’d eventually convince himself of it, despite the fact that he was crushing on his potential boss and was raging jealous over this idiot man making eyes at  _ his _ wench! 

“Hey! If you’re not going to take this sexy-off seriously, you can just step down, mister!” the little pixie girl shouted at him. That got his attention. Not just his, Jaime saw the wench take notice of what was going on. She looked horrified and started marching over to them.  _ Oh, wench, watch my hips, because they do not lie. _ He put all of his pent up frustration into his moves. Everything from his father yelling at him, to his sister being given the restaurant  _ he _ had wanted to take over just to spite him, to his little brother being dumped because the woman thought she had a better chance at Jaime. She hadn’t and it wasn’t his fault, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

“Arya! What did I tell you abo--” She stopped short when she saw Jaime dancing, and he promptly forgot all his worries. All that mattered was the dance. He swore it wasn’t because of her that he started channelling his inner Magic Mike and made his hips move in ways he hadn’t been aware they  _ could _ move. He certainly wasn’t enjoying her eyes go wide as they followed those Magic Mike movements, or how red her cheeks got when he thrust his crotch in her direction.

“You were saying, Brie?” the pixie asked, a devilish smile on her face. 

“Uh… well… what’s going on here…” she mumbled, her eyes glued to Jaime’s hips. He grinned. 

“We’re having a sexy-off. Since we were having  _ such a hard time _ deciding who would be hired,  _ remember?” _ the pixie insisted. A nagging suspicion was born in Jaime’s mind as the pixie kept her eyes on the boy dancing next to Jaime. The kid was… mediocre, if he was being nice, but the pixie had been watching him the  _ entire _ time, especially when the kid had shed his shirt (zero flair with that, and it had gotten stuck on his ears).  _ She’s totally going to choose the kid because she wants to bone him! _

It angered him, to know that this punk pixie was probably laughing at him, and that the intriguing wench was witnessing his humiliation.  _ I’ll show her. Maximum effort! _

**********

Bronn was pretty sure the kid was just messing with them when she made them start this “sexy-off” dance thing. Now that she was eyeing the other kid with the bad dance moves, he was absolutely certain of it. Normally, he’d stop and just get down off the stage, but the shy cutie that had been talking to the owner was trying so hard to not stare at his moves (which were pretty good, in his opinion) that he didn’t  _ want _ to stop. Job be damned, he wanted her number and if ogling him made her happy, he was equally happy to comply. The cutie had followed the owner lady to the stage and was mesmerized by Bronn, especially when he had removed his shirt and tossed it to her. The blond man, Jaime, who looked suspiciously like his ex-boss’s brother, was busting out some dance moves that  _ would _ have been great  _ if _ he calmed the fuck down a bit. It was too much energy and he’d tired quicker. As a former male stripper, Bronn knew a thing or two about it. 

His attention was caught by the blonde owner who couldn't stop staring at the blond energizer bunny. “Arya,” she said, clearly in a daze by the pelvic thrusts of blond bunny, “this… isn't… you shouldn't have… had them…” 

Bronn grinned when he saw the blonde’s eyes go wide as saucers, as the blond bunny started to unzip his pants. 

“I suppose a few more minutes wouldn't hurt…” the blonde woman said, her eyes never leaving the blond bunny’s crotch. 

A loud  _ thwack _ and the music stopped. Everyone turned to see Sandor, raging like a bull, ready to gore anyone who dared to defy him. “What the  _ fuck _ is going on here?!”

“Ah… you see…” the pixie started. “I was just--”

“Arya!” a pretty redhead said sternly, stepping out from behind Sandor. “What did I tell you about harassing the employees??”

The blonde woman seemed to have been snapped from her daze. “Oh, dear… Everyone, I am so sorry about this. Arya was just… playing a joke. You  _ don't _ need to worry about competing for a job here, you are all hired.”

“Wait!” the pixie hissed. “But we really can't afford--”

“We can when we pay them from your wages,” the blonde woman snapped at the pixie. 

“What!? That's not fair!”

“You should have thought about that before putting us in such a predicament!” The blonde woman, Brienne, looked very tired by the pixie’s antics. “If you’re lucky, this place will be a smash hit and you won’t have to lose anything.” 

Bronn hadn't minded the dance-off, and would even go so far as to say he had enjoyed himself. The bad dancer looked flushed from the exertion, and the blond man looked put out that they had had to stop. Bronn chuckled and hopped down from the stage. The cutie immediately came forward to hand him his shirt back. “Thanks, love. How'd I do?”

“Oh… um… you were lovely… I mean, not lovely, because you're very manly and masculine… I mean, not that I noticed… but who wouldn't… and… uh… I… I'm Lollys. I'm the new manager. Oh, I suppose we’re all new… You were very good up there.” Lollys the Cutie turned several pretty shades of red. Bronn grinned. He was going to like working here. 


	3. Lunch

“Alright, I'll talk to you more about it when you get here,” Sansa was saying softly into her phone. Arya edged closer to listen in, closing the kitchen door as quietly as she could. “Mmhmmm. Ok. Bye Sandor.” She disconnected the call with a happy sigh.

“Someone's getting laid.”

Sansa jumped about a foot in the air. “Wha-- Arya! That's not… San-- _Clegane_ and I are just… we're associates. Nothing more.”

Arya studied her sister, noting the way she couldn't look her in the eye, and the blush that had blossomed across her cheeks from talking about the burly baker. “Uh huh… so you _don't_ daydream about him fucking you senseless on these pretty stainless steel tables?” Arya was leaning on one of the tables and pressed down on the surface, causing it to make a slight pop noise. “Kinky minx.”

Sansa's mouth fell open. “How… how did you…”

Arya grinned. “I didn't!” Sansa gave Arya a murderous look.

“You tricked me!”

She rolled her eyes. “Duh! But come one, it's totally obvious you want to bone him!”

Sansa went pale at that. “It is…? You mean… he _knows?”_

Arya waved her worries off. “Obvious to _me,_ I mean. And Bronn. And Jaime. But everyone else, they're clueless. _Especially_ the burly baker.”

“Oh… I… I don't know what to think about that. I _really_ like him, but we're colleagues! It would be very inappropriate to… to start a relationship with him.”

“Casual sex is not inappropriate for colleagues, _if_ they can make it work. Why do you think Lollys is so damn happy all the time?”

“I'm sorry, say what now?” Sansa raised a perfect eyebrow at her.

“You didn't know? Lemme say it in a language you understand. Bronn slips his sausage into Lollys’ cherry pie on a daily basis. Well, I guess she's not cherry anymore, not since that first time. Not even the first time really, since she has a kid…”  

Sansa made a face. “That is a _horrible_ food analogy. And…” She looked around. “She's happy? With him? He seemed like a player to me…”

Arya shrugged. “He's only fucking her as far as I know, and she's loving it. I don't think any guy has given her attention like this.”

Sansa smiled, looking off into the distance. “Good for her. I'm glad she's happy, after everything she’s been through.” Lollys had been a long time friend of Sansa’s, ever since she worked at Baratheon’s Bar And Green. Arya never figured out what the Green part was about. “What about you and Pod? You’ve been rather friendly with him.”

“Yeah, he’s really fun. A nerd, but a fun nerd. I really like him.” They had been chatting nearly everyday for the past two weeks and Arya was crushing on him hard. He wasn’t just a nice body to look at, he was also smart, and funny, and thoughtful. “Now if only I can get him to give me _his_ sausage…”

“What did I say about harassing the employees?!” Sansa demanded.

Arya put her hands up. “Hey, he's doing plenty of looking on his side. I'm just trying to get a taste. And if he doesn't work out… well, I only work the night shift anyway. I’ll only see him for a few minutes a day, once the place is officially open.”

“Oh gods…” Sansa said, covering her face with her hands, doing that silent scream she did when she got frustrated. “That is not the _point,_ Arya.”

“I just want _his_ point,” she said with a grin. Sansa groaned and went to her office to work on recipes.

**********

“Little bird,” he growled in her ear, holding her up against the door of her office. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and his dick was buried deep inside her. “Little bird…” Sansa mewled as he thrust, whispering encouraging words to him, telling him how much she liked it-- “Little bird! Damn, you can fall asleep anywhere… maybe I should call you kitten instead.”

Sansa woke, her vision and awareness both fuzzy. Someone was talking to her, someone tall and with a wonderfully raspy voice. _Sandor!_ She sat up like a shot, wiping the drool from her mouth. “Oh, I am so sorry, I must have dozed off…” she said. She could see Ramsay through the window to the kitchen, prepping for more test meals. “It's been a long week.”

“I can imagine,” he rumbled. “Had a good dream then?”

Sansa felt all the blood rush to her face. “Um… it was… a very nice dream,” she mumbled, pressing her thighs together. Now was not the time to be ogling her co-worker. This was a place of business and her teachers would be ashamed of her for not respecting the sanctity of the kitchen. Once she was home, on the other hand... “Anyway, shall we discuss the dessert menu?”

By the time they had finished, Ramsay and Jeyne were nearly done with the prep work. Ramsay was scarily skillful with his knife, almost to the point of Sansa wondering if she shouldn't be alone with him. Jeyne, ever faithful, had worked with Sansa in their first kitchen together, when they had been mere dishwashers. They had gone their separate ways, but always kept in touch. Originally, Jeyne was only going to be a temporary assistant, but the restaurant she was supposed to start at had to push their opening date back several months and she suddenly had a lot of free time. Another assistant would be brought in, and would have the privilege of Jeyne’s tutelage. Ramsay, if he knew what was good for him, could learn much from Jeyne as well. 

“Chef Stark, we’re ready when you are,” he said, leaning against a table and twirling his chef knife.

“I'll just be a minute more, Ramsay,” she called out. “Sandor, would you like to stay? We could use a taste tester.”

“I'd never turn down your cooking, little bird,” he said with a grin, making her heart skip a beat.

**********

Brienne checked in on the restaurant as often as she could. As the only partner in this venture that didn't have skills directly related to the business, she felt it necessary to fill in any gaps that might come up. Plus, Jaime… well, seeing Jaime was a bonus all on its own. Until he opened his mouth, of course. _Idiotic man,_ Brienne thought. She had just clocked out early at the bank she worked at, her mind drifting to the past. It was because of her job that she had met Sansa and Arya.

They had come in to apply for a small business loan, but by the bank’s standards, they just didn’t have enough to make it worth it. To Brienne, on the other hand, she had offered to become an investor. Her father was well off and had set up a trust fund for Brienne that she almost never touched. This idea was intriguing enough to her to want to use it for these young ladies. They had done one better, and offered to make Brienne an equal partner once they saw she had a good head on her shoulders. That had been a year ago, and since then, she had become good friends with both girls and their family.

She pulled her car into the parking lot, excitement buzzing down to her very bones. Tonight was the first soft opening for the restaurant, and hopefully the last. Sansa, an experienced chef with ten years under her belt, had explained that it might take more than a few tries before they were ready to open for good, especially since they were such a niche theme.

“Good evening, milady,” Olyvar greeted her as she walked in. “Table for one?”

“Yes, and please inform the Stark Sisters I am here.” Olyvar nodded and escorted her to a table. In addition to the soft opening, they were also doing spot tests of the service, allowing friends to make reservations, though Brienne had a standing reservation for whenever she visited. Sansa had been right about hiring Olyvar, he was really good at reading people. She just wished he wouldn’t keep seating her in Jaime’s section.

“Wench, how good of you to return to me. What would you like to drink?” Jaime asked from behind her. Brienne stiffened, but she swore it wasn’t out of nervousness, that it wasn’t because his voice haunted her dreams, or sent shivers of pleasure down her spine. She also swore to never tell him that the cocky, slightly possessive attitude he used as a server really worked for him.

“Water, as usual. And--” He stepped into her field of vision and Brienne promptly forgot everything. Jaime was wearing a costume today. Catelyn Stark, Sansa and Arya’s mother, had been working on server outfits, and must have finished them in time for the soft opening. Jaime was… outstanding. He was dressed in a corporate suit, but the tie was undone, just hanging around his neck and down his front, and the top buttons of his pressed shirt were undone as well, showing off some of his golden skin. If he had ordered her to kneel down and call him “sir,” she just might have. Not that she’d ever tell him, of course, because no man would have power over her like that.

“Something wrong, wench?” He was grinning much to broadly for Brienne’s liking. _What was I about to say?_ she thought. “Did you want something to eat as well?”

“A-ah, right… chef’s choice… please.” Brienne sucked in a breath as Jaime leaned in close to whisper in her ear.

“As you wish, wench, but is that _all_ you wish to order from me?” He placed his hand on her knee. “I am at your service.”

“I… um… I…” Brienne felt like her face was about to melt from the amount of heat she was generating at the moment.

 _“Lannister!”_ Bronn yelled from across the room. “Quit goofing off and change into your costume!”

Jaime stood up and yelled back at Bronn, “Alright already! I was just serving my favorite customer, that’s all!” He bowed to Brienne. “I will return posthaste, wench.”


	4. Dinner

The bosses were seated at the idiot Jaime’s table, Sandor noted, watching from the kitchen. He kept his eyes glued to the redhead who deemed him worthy to share her kitchen, and now that he was finally free of Lannister’s, he could fully enjoy it. It was one of the few kitchens he had truly felt welcome in. After the initial mixup and accidental compliment in his interview, Sandor had come to discover that Sansa Stark was not a person you messed with. She was made of steel as strong as her Northern-style knife and tolerated no funny business in her kitchen. It was rather admirable and how he preferred to have a kitchen run. Plus, she loved to talk recipes. Despite the fact that he was a baker and she was a cook, there was enough overlap to get them into conversations, and enough difference that the conversations never got boring. He often stayed late to work on the breads for the next day, and she would stay with him, just talking and acting as his assistant after Hot Pie went home. If he didn’t know better, he’d say they were flirting.

It was only noon, but everyone was nervous for the soft opening tonight. Seven in the evening, they’d open their doors to family and friends. The menu was planned, and Sansa and her two assistants would be prepping the last of the food for the remainder of the afternoon.

“Chef Clegane, I have the cake batter ready for tasting.”

Sandor turned to see his own assistant, Hot Pie. The kid had potential, that was for damn sure, but he was a novice at best, having only been self-taught. Not that that was bad, since Sandor had been the same way, but the kid still had a long way to go.

Sandor sampled the batter, and grimaced. There was too much vanilla.  _ Way _ too much to for it to be usable. “You altered the recipe.”

“What? No, chef! I didn’t! I swear.” Hot Pie was looking around frantically, but none of the other people in the kitchen were saying anything. The kitchen aides, Lommy and Mycah, were busy cleaning dirty dishes and not paying attention at all. Ramsay, however, was giggling, enjoying Hot Pie’s misery. Not a big surprise there. Jeyne was staring hard at Sandor, then tilting her head at Ramsay, all while keeping her knife slicing the carrots she was working on. A light went on in Sandor’s brain.

“Ramsay!”

Ramsay snapped to attention. “Yes, chef?!”

_ “You _ altered the recipe, didn’t you,” Sandor snarled. Ramsay’s eyes went wide and he whipped his head around to look at Jeyne, but she was focused on her carrot chopping. “Don’t look at her, she can’t help you. I’m going to say this one time and one time only. Mess with my recipes again, and you will find out what being kneaded in the head feels like.”

“What’s going on in here?” 

Sandor grimaced inwardly and turned to see the woman he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. Everyone, even the aides, were on edge. In this kitchen, Sansa Stark ruled with an iron skillet. “Chef Stark, I was just--”

“He threatened to beat me in the head,” Ramsay interjected. “With his rolling pin, I think.”

Sansa raised a perfect eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest. “What did you do, Ramsay?”

“Why do you think I did anything?” he asked, smiling as innocently as he could manage. The smile just made him creepier, in Sandor’s opinion.

“Because I know Chef Clegane wouldn’t threaten violence for no reason,  _ and _ I know you’re feeling antsy, which means you were probably playing tricks on people. I warned you before. I’m writing you up this time, and you will have to do extra prep work as well. Maybe your excess energy will be put to good use. Do it one more time, and you will be fired, no matter how talented you are.” Sansa sighed and Sandor just wanted to take all her worries away. “Both you and Jeyne has been allowed to create one dish to serve tonight. I would hate to have to deny you that privilege, but it is a waste for you to be so childish. Now, shape up or ship out. I need to speak to Chef Clegane in private, and when we come back, I expect everything to be in order.  _ Got that?” _

“Yes, chef!” the three assistants and two aides shouted.

Once the door of her office was closed behind them and the blinds on the windows closed, she turned to Sandor. “I am so sorry, I should have been paying more attention to him. He gets like this. A side effect of being so brilliant, I suppose. I’m trying to curb his mischievous tendencies, but he’s gone this long without much guidance. It will be difficult.”

“It’s fine, little bird. Nothing I can’t handle. If you look the other way, I can beat some sense into him. Always works with the difficult ones.” She giggled. “I have some new recipes to run by you later, if you’re not too tired.”

“Of course! I’m never too tired for you,” she said, smiling softly and making Sandor’s heartbeat speed up. With the way she was looking at him, he didn’t even think before pulling her into his arms and kissing her hard. He felt her stiffen.

“Shit!” he swore, letting her go. “I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t…” He was fumbling for his words, feeling increasingly embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have--”

Then Sansa was pulling him down towards her, kissing him fiercely. “After work,” she whispered. “We’ll talk about this after work, but right now, I really need you to keep kissing me.”

“Yes, chef,” he said, happy to comply.

**********

Pod wasn’t quite sure how this had happened, but he was currently cornered in the utility closet by the pixie vixen, the lights were out, and she was kissing him, moaning into his mouth, as she slid her hand under his clothes. It was everything he had dreamed about, except… “Miss Arya?”

“Oooh, I like that. Call me that again.”

“No, I mean… we shouldn’t be doing this. The guests will be arriving any moment now.” He gently pushed her away.

“I know,” she grumbled. “Why do you think I’m doing this? I need some stress relief, and we’ve been dancing around this for the past four weeks, but you’re into me and I’m into you. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at my ass when you think I’m not looking. Don’t be embarrassed, it’s a rather good ass.” He had, in fact, been blushing, though he had been surprised she had known of both his blushing and him checking her out. How could he not? She was awesome, confident, pretty, and sexy as hell. “I know, the timing is off, inconvenient even… but I'm down for a quickie.”

Pod froze. “A quickie?”

“Yeah.” She leaned back into him. Pod’s body was reacting to her despite his reservations. “Mmmmm, I'll take this as yes,” she murmured. He pushed her away a bit more forcefully than before. “Pod?”

“Miss…” He cleared his throat. “Arya, I really like you. I do. But this… a quickie in the utility closet, this isn’t what I want with you. I mean, it is, but… not like this. We’ve been talking, but we haven’t even been out on a date and now you want… I’m sorry. If all you want from me is my dick, that’s… understandable, I suppose. But it’s not what I want from you. I mean, I do want that, but as a… as a bonus to our relationship, not the basis of it.” She still didn’t say anything, and Pod felt his cheeks getting red. Gods, he had really misjudged her. “If you want more than… well,  _ this, _ then I would be happy to take you out after work tonight. If not… I think it best that I train Bronn to be the head server. He’s got a natural knack for it, and he’s the second most experienced person here for customer service.” Still nothing from her, and it was too dark to see any expression on her face. “I’ll head out first then.”

**********

Jaime was disappointed. His wench wasn’t looking at him at all, but was instead looking at the smaller, raven haired man. Renly Baratheon. His brother in law. Or was he? Jaime thought about it for a moment.  _ My brother in law’s brother, _ he decided. Robert was there, for some reason. He was looking nervously at all the male servers with abs on display. Cersei, Jaime's egotistical twin, had come, too, and was also looking at the male servers, specifically Pod. Arya looked pissed. And Joffrey was with them, their snot-nosed son. Not the good kids though, but they had sent text messages promising their favorite uncle to visit next time. Well, Myrcella did. Tommen said he’d think about it. Jaime couldn’t blame him. If he didn't work here, he wouldn't come either. There was young male flesh as far as his eye could see, and he had twenty/fifteen vision. He could see pretty damn far. Truthfully, there were only five servers, two busboys and one host, but even just Olyvar was too much male flesh for Jaime's tastes. 

“Lannister! Get a move on!” Bronn hissed at him as he passed by. 

Jaime shook his head. Now was not the time to be distracted. He had made a promise to himself, a vengeful vow to his father, and a pact with his brother, Tyrion. He could do this. He  _ could _ do this. He could  _ do _ this. He could do  _ thi-- _

“What on earth are you wearing?”

Jaime turned to see Cersei looking at him with contempt. As her twin, Cersei had always expected Jaime to hold himself to a certain standard. By the look on her face, he knew he had fallen short of that tonight. “I’m a lifeguard.” He was wearing bright orange swimming shorts, flip flops, and a whistle on a long lanyard around his neck. Under his arm, he held a flotation device. He had thought he looked pretty good. Brienne had yet to see him, but he looked forward to her reaction. 

Cersei gave him a look,  _ How are we related… _ “I can  _ see _ that. You look like an idiot. I still can’t believe you’re doing this.” She looked past him, eyeing one of the other servers. By the murderous look Arya was giving Cersei, he could only assume it was Pod. Arya’s crush on and pursuing of the shy server had become a source of entertainment for the rest of the employees. 

“Yeah, well, if you had given up your claim on Lannister’s, this never would have happened.” He was glad she had and that this had happened. Where would he be without irritating and charming his lovely wench? Bored, that's where. That was a terrible place to be. 

Cersei scoffed. “Lannister’s is a cash cow. There is no way I’m giving it up,  _ and _ I’m running it even better than Dad ever did. Even if our best baker didn’t renew his contract. Never did find out where he went… Dad was pissed when he found out.” She sighed. “I can get you a job there though, if this is really what you want to do. More respectable than working in this dump.”

“If it’s such a dump, then why’d you even bother to show up?” Jaime caught sight of his wench finally breaking away from Renly, though why she had to hug that man was beyond him.

“Because all Robert heard from Ned was ‘it’s like one of those Hooters places’ and that was that. Bet he regrets not listening now,” she said with glee. “And besides, even if it is a dump, at least the servers are cute. Oh, one of them is heading this way.” Cersei struck a pose that Jaime guessed was supposed to be sexy.

“Jaime, the boss wants you to take tables eight and twelve. Can you handle it?” Peck asked.

“Oh, dearie, my brother can handle anything!” Cersei said, winking at Peck. “He’s a Lannister, after all.”

Jaime refrained from remarking that he was possibly the worst server in the place, and Peck didn’t mention it either, thankfully. “Of course. I’ll be right there.” Cersei kept batting her eyes at Peck, ignoring Jaime. Peck looked perturbed. Jaime didn’t blame him. Cersei was certainly a force to be reckoned with. He walked away, muttering to himself, trying to remember what he was supposed to say.

“Welcome to Beefcakes,” Jaime said, smiling brilliantly at the older gentleman. Seated with him were two young women and a man that looked a few years younger than Tyrion. “What can I get you to drink?” 

The older man looked up at Jaime.  _ His eyes… they’re like the wench’s eyes. _ Jaime had to strain to hear the man's soft voice order water. The other three, with the same eyes, hair, and complexion as Brienne, also ordered water.  _ It's her family, _ he realized. 

“Would you like an appetizer?” Jaime asked, suddenly feeling very exposed. His wench’s family didn't seem disturbed by the fact that a half naked man was at their table, writing down their food order. “Very good, I will get your orders put in, and bring out the tea cakes.” 

After submitting that order to the kitchen, Jaime hurried to the second additional table he had been assigned. “Tyrion?!”

His younger brother looked up at him with a grin. “Sup! Nice shorts. So where's this ‘wench’ you keep going on and on and  _ on _ about?”

“Shhhh! She threatened she'd cut my balls off if she heard that name uttered while guests are here.” Jaime looked around to make sure his wench wasn't in earshot. 

“Oh, guess you probably need those. Fine, but point her out to me. I want to see the woman who brought the great Jaime Lannister, Sexiest Man of the Year three years running, to his very knees.”

Jaime frowned. “She has not brought me to my--”

“Is that her?” Tyrion asked, pointing. Jaime whirled around, clutching his flotation device desperately. Tyrion was pointing at Sandor, who was poking his head out from the kitchen. “Oh, my mistake. It's just Clegane. Was wondering where he got off to. And Blackwater, he's here too. Small world.”

“You know them?”

“Of course. Wait, you don't? They both worked at Lannister’s. Bronn was one of the most dependable employees we had, and Sandor is by far one of the best patisseries I've ever encountered. It was a blow to the restaurant to lose them both, but also understandable.” Tyrion sighed. “I never agreed with Dad on giving Cersei control of the place. She spends more than is coming in, and she's driving the staff nuts. I do what I can as manager, but there's only so much damage control I can do.”

“Have you told Dad?” Jaime asked. He was tempted to sit with Tyrion, but he would  _ really _ get yelled at that for that. 

“I tried. The numbers aren't decreasing enough for him to worry but by the time they do, it might be too late.” Tyrion fiddled with his menu. “It's a mess.”

Jaime scribbled on his order pad as Arya made threatening gestures at him from behind the bar to hurry up. “Dad should have put you in charge.”

Tyrion looked up. “You think so?”

“Yeah. I mean, who would be better?” Certainly not him. In the weeks he had spent training to be a server, he had learned a lot. Like how cute his wench was when she got befuddled, or mad, or embarrassed, or was happy… Pretty much all of her reactions, if he thought about it. But mostly, he had learned how inadequate he was to run a restaurant. “I think you and I should do a projection of the restaurant’s future and present it to Dad. If what you say is true, then the evidence will be clear. And I'm going to recommend that you be put in charge. If anything, I've learned that I am better at customer service than I am at running a business.”

“Speaking of service, shouldn't you be taking my order?”

Jaime grinned and snapped up Tyrion’s menu. “Already got it.”


	5. Dessert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I wasn't quite finished with this chapter when I posted the previous one. Hope you like it!

“What’s the best way to a woman’s heart…” 

Lollys turned to the voice and found Jaime Lannister mumbling to himself. He was on his five minute break, and taking it in the kitchen while absentmindedly snacking on a slice of the scary chef’s Sacher torte. 

“It depends on the woman,” Lollys said. Jaime looked up at her. “Miss diTarth, I assume?” 

Jaime nodded. “How’d you know?”

“It’s a bit obvious you like her,” Lollys replied, smiling. “And I notice a lot more things than people realize. I’m simple minded, but I’m not stupid.”

“Never said you were,” Jaime said with a laugh. “So what do you think, do I have a chance with her?”

Lollys smiled broadly. He did, but it wasn’t Lollys’ place to just  _ tell _ him that. “I think you’ll have to ask her out if you want to know the answer to that question. Just… maybe don’t push her so much? She’s more likely to punch you than date you if you keep that up.”

**********

“Hey, Lollys,” Arya said when she found her in the “booze bin”, as everyone had dubbed the room the alcohol was stored in. Lollys had been sent by Sansa to get more cherry wine for one of the dishes, and Arya was grabbing some liquors for the bar. “I, um… I heard you giving advice to Jaime, and I was wondering… would you give me some, too?”

“Of course, dear. Young Podrick?”

Arya nodded, looking glum. “I… I may… I sort of…” She sighed. “I insulted him, but I didn’t mean to. I made him feel like a cheap one night stand, but… I really do like him. I’m just no good at these…  _ feelings. _ My usual response is to just make a crass joke and see how that goes.”

“Yes, well, Sansa told me that you were closer to your brothers than her when you two were growing up. I suppose they weren’t the best influence on you in this regard.” Lollys sighed and thought for a moment. “You really do like him? Enough to date him?”

Arya nodded. “I like him a  _ lot. _ Like, I want to hold his hand, tell him things, listen to his talking, as well as bang him every which way.”

Lollys blushed. “Yes, well, I think you should tell him that. You shouldn’t be embarrassed about having feelings for him, especially since he seems to return them, yes?” Arya nodded again. “Tell him. No beating around the bush. Just be honest with him, and ask for forgiveness. I’m sure it will work itself out.”

Arya seemed unsure of Lollys’ words, but thanked her and left with the vodka and rum.

**********

Lollys blushed as Bronn approached. He was dressed as a swashbuckler, complete with a sword at his side and a billowy shirt that showed off his tanned, muscular chest. Winking at her, he grabbed the two plates she pointed to. “Table four!” she called after him. She was a simple woman, with simple needs. Bronn was perfect in that regard. He loved loving her. He loved playing with her son. He made her feel safe and she in turn made him feel cherished. He had been a shoulder to cry on when she told him why her son had no father, had vowed to kill the man who had hurt her so. It hadn’t been long, but Lollys was in love with him and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

Sansa was busy calling out orders, being answered with a myriad of “yes, chef!” but Lollys noticed that her eyes would wander to the large, scary pastry chef every so often. He wasn't so scary around Sansa. Another thing Lollys had noticed, Sansa and the scary chef were glowing when they emerged from her office right before dinner service was scheduled to start. The same way Bronn glowed after loving her, but Sansa had confided that they hadn't gotten that far. “But,” she had whispered, smiling so happily, “probably very, very soon. I'm going to his place after work.”

“You really like him then?” Lollys had asked.

Sansa had beamed. “I do… I really, really do.” 

A crash of plates brought Lollys back to the present. Podrick was there, cursing as he picked up the plates he had knocked over. Arya was there, and tried to help him, but he refused to let her. Lollys saw the hesitancy of Arya, but then she seemed to remember something, and helped anyway. Podrick seemed confused, but didn’t push her away again.

**********

Brienne was hovering around the door to the kitchen, watching intently. Lollys came up behind her and looked over her shoulder. Well, she tried to. Brienne was much taller than Lollys. “What are you looking at?”

Brienne nearly hit her head on the ceiling, she jumped so high. “Lollys!! You scared me… I'm just, uh, observing the waitstaff. That's all. Shouldn't you be monitoring the food to table service?”

“I'm on break. Sansa insists I take breaks every half hour, even if it's just a few minutes. Are you sure it's the waitstaff you're observing and not just Jaime?”

Brienne turned red and couldn't look Lollys in the eye. “I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. It's not like I'm attracted to the man. He's an entitled, arrogant jerk.”

“You think so? I always found him to be a nice man, gentle and giving.” Lollys pondered how Brienne could be so mistaken. 

The taller woman scoffed. Then she looked at Lollys curiously. “How so?”

“Oh, well, he gave me a ride home the other day. Bronn had the day off, and was going to pick me up after his errands, but was stuck at the auto place, remember?” Brienne nodded. “Well, Jaime insisted on taking me home, even though we had to swing by my mother's place to pick up little Tyr.  _ And _ he was delighted to know I named my son in honor of his brother, after I read that article in the King’s Landing Newspaper. Overcoming adversity from everywhere, including his very own father… I want  _ my _ Tyrion to be as strong as Tyrion Lannister. Jaime is very proud of his brother, you know. Dotes on him, even. As far as I can tell, under that silly exterior, is a caring, loving man.”

Brienne bit her lip. “I… I may have noticed some similar qualities…” She seemed to consider something. 

Jaime came to the kitchen, smiling at Brienne, then heading over to Jeyne to tell her something that Lollys could not hear. Jeyne nodded. “Chef Stark, one of the customers wants to meet the chef that made his coq au vin.”

“That’s fine, we’re nearly done here. Only two more of my dishes, and one of Ramsay’s,” Sansa called out, not lifting her eyes from her plating. “Chef Clegane, any objections?”

“No, Chef!” he shouted, putting the finishing touches on the raspberry cheesecake he was plating.

Jeyne left, heading over to Tyrion Lannister’s table. Lollys could see the man’s eyes light up as he saw Jeyne, even from the distance she was at.

“Um, Lannister,” Brienne said as Jaime made to leave the kitchen as well. “Jaime… if… if you would be… if you find my company adequate, I would like to take you out to dinner. After work. Tonight, I mean.” Brienne was a burning red color, and she couldn’t look Jaime in the eyes, which was probably just as well, because Jaime looked like he was about to pass out from shock.

“To-tonight?!” he gasped. “Yes! I would love-- I mean, that sounds very pleasant.” He tried to be calm, but he wouldn’t stop grinning. Brienne rolled her eyes.

“Idiot…” she said, but she was smiling, too.

**********

Dinner service was thankfully over. Lollys was helping take out the trash when she heard two voices speaking in the alley behind the restaurant. 

“Arya, I told you, I’m not interested in being another notch in your bedpost,” Podrick said.

“I know! I’m sorry, I’m saying this badly. I just…” Lollys peeked around the corner to see Arya taking deep breaths, attempting to calm herself. “I really do like you. As a person. Not just for your dick. Yes, I want that, but I also want… I want to… I want to be with  _ you, _ and… I may not always be able to, um,  _ express _ myself well, but I will try. For you, I’ll try my hardest.”

Pod looked uncertain, yet hopeful. “Really?”

“Yeah. And… we won’t have sex until you’re comfortable with it, if you ever are. I mean, I have a vibrator. I’ll live.”

Lollys bit back a chuckle, but she was so happy to see Pod laugh and hug Arya.

“Oi! Get a room, you two!” 

Lollys whirled around to see Ramsay flipping them off. He was leaning against the brick wall of the building on the other side of the kitchen door, smoking a cigarette and playing with a butterfly knife. Lollys hadn’t even noticed him when she came outside.

“Ramsay, how many times have I told you to not yell at young love?” an unfamiliar voice said. Walking down the alley towards them was a man, about the same age as Bronn, with red hair, much darker than Sansa’s, and an eyepatch over his left eye. “You need another lesson in manners?”

Ramsay crushed his cigarette against the bricks, then ran full speed at the man, knife still in hand, and leapt at him. Lollys thought he was going to kill him, but the man merely opened his arms and caught Ramsay in a hug. The knife came dangerously close to being skewered into the man’s shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice at all.

“Bitch…” Ramsay muttered, snuggling the man and wrapping his whole body around him, even his legs around the man’s waist. He sort of reminded Lollys of a koala. “You were gone too long. Oughta teach  _ you _ a lesson.”

“Duty called, but now I’m back and here.” He kissed Ramsay’s head, then looked over to Lollys, Arya and Podrick. “Please excuse my Ramsay. He gets grouchy when I have to go out of town. I hope he didn’t act up too much.”

Neither Lollys, Arya, nor Pod had no words as the man grinned and carried koala Ramsay back into the building.

**********

“When you know you found your person, you can't let them go,” Bronn said. Lollys had filled him in on the things that had happened during the dining service. “I’m glad for Sandor. And Sansa. Age don’t mean a thing if you love someone. Or sanity, in the case of that psycho pipsqueak and his one-eyed partner. Speaking of…” Bronn got up to go get something from the fridge. They were sitting in Bronn’s kitchen. Tyr was asleep in his high chair, noodles in his hand and sauce covering most of his face and shirt. Lollys took the time to clean Tyr’s face while Bronn retrieved whatever it was he had. A plate was set down in front of Lollys. She turned to see a breathtakingly beautiful miniature cake sitting in front of her, a modest diamond ring decorating the top, and Bronn kneeling on one knee next to her. 

“Br-- Bronn?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Lollys darling, I’ve only known you for a month, but that is more than enough time for me to know that you are the one, you are my person. Will you marry me?”

Lollys burst into tears of joy, nodding and flinging her arms around Bronn so that she could kiss the stuffing out of him.


End file.
